Perfectly Messy by Lizzy Charles

The game went long.”
    “I can’t believe they had a game on election night.” She shakes her head. “What type of values are they teaching you kids?”
    “Don’t worry, everyone on the team who’s eighteen got a free pass from school to vote. Though,” she shrugs, “I can’t guarantee they didn’t use that time to go grab a coffee and browse Facebook.”
    “Hmm, maybe if…no, when your father is in office, I’ll find a way to make sure schools can provide chaperones.”
    I laugh. “To a bunch of eighteen-year-olds?”
    “A woman can dream,” she says before taking a sip of her white wine. “Where’s Alex tonight?”
    “A game.” The one against our ultimate rivals. The guys hated me when I said I’d have to bow out. Especially Alex. He wouldn’t let up. Coach understood. But, still. I hate letting people down. Mom nods while aimlessly looking through the crowd. Her ability to listen tonight is less than stellar. I won’t hold that against her though. Heck, I can barely keep a thought straight tonight.
    The commercials finally end and the anchor chats about the end of duck migration while he waits for more precinct updates. The chatter in the banquet has turned into a low hum, as if the electricity in the air is snuffing the noise out. I let my hand find that lower place on Lucy’s back, rubbing it as I wait for the anchor to speak. I glance down at the hot way her back curves, allowing myself to momentarily blank out from this hell.
    “And now,” the anchor bellows. My eyes snap back to the screen. “CNN, MSNBC, and FOX are reporting their predictions for Minnesota’s next Governor.”
    My heart stops.
    “Jeff Marshall with 49.5% of precinct report! Tim Montgomery, 43%.”
    The room roars. Millions of pounds lift from my shoulder and for a moment, I’m free.
    My heart flies as Lucy jumps up and down with cheers. Mom grabs my hand, gasping, before springing forward onto Dad’s arm. Dad gives his signature nod, then slowly his straight face cracks, hinting at a smile. He leans in towards Mom, giving her cheek a quick kiss.
    “SPEECH, SPEECH!”
    Dad holds up his hand. “Let’s wait until it’s official folks.”
    The anchor bellows again, “This just in. All precincts reporting. Can’t wait to meet you on Capitol Hill, Mr. Marshall.” Below his statement, the scrolling bar highlights Dad’s name. 53% of the precinct vote. Then that millions of pounds missing from my shoulders detours, slamming me in the gut.
    Change is coming.
    “Okay,” Dad hollers, “ now we can celebrate! Where’s my family?”
    Lucy pushes me forward to join my parents and Tonya. Dad pulls us together. We hug in a huddle. Yeah, it’s lame, but I don’t care. Not tonight. Dad deserves this. A mess of words pour from us as we embrace. This new ache gets pushed aside. It’ll go away. Change is always hard. Right now, I’m focused on him. Finally, Dad takes a moment to make sure his eyes meet with each of ours individually. “I love you guys. I’d never be here without you.” With that said, he loosens his grasp of Tonya and me. We step back as he scoops in to give Mom a huge kiss. I bounce backward the moment I hear Mom calling Dad “Mr. Governor” under her breath. Okay, that’s enough.
    But the crowd loves it and everyone catcalls and cheers. Only Carl and Paul stand stoic.
    Lucy wraps her arm around my waist. “Congratulations! All your hard work was worth it. I’m so excited for your family!”
    “Thanks,” I say as I take a deep breath. I smile back at her, even though my gut aches.
    “What’s wrong?” she asks low so no one can hear. With everyone celebrating around us and patting my back, her eyes are the only ones that are sincere. She’s totally in-tune. “Justin?”
    I pull her in close for a hug. “For some reason, I feel like we lost,” I whisper.

Chapter Eleven

     
    Lucy
     
    I slide my fingers into my woven, fingerless gloves, wrapping them around my water bottle. Forty-seven